


Then, Now, and After

by Indigo_warlock



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Afterlife, Battle, Betrayal, Boys In Love, Character Death, Character Study, Complete, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fantasy, Gay, Heartbreak, M/M, Reunions, Skyrim Civil War, Sovngarde (Elder Scrolls), The Great War (Elder Scrolls), Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigo_warlock/pseuds/Indigo_warlock
Summary: Lovers. Enemies. Old friends. Ulfric and Torygg had a complicated relationship.
Relationships: Elisif the Fair/Torygg, Rikke/Ulfric Stormcloak, Ulfric Stormcloak/Torygg
Kudos: 1





	1. Then

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt to do a character study on Ulfric and his relationship with Torygg. But because I am who I am, I had to add a few ships. Also, I am not an expert on Skyrim lore, so there may be a few mistakes in here, but I did my best to stay true to the game. There will be death and violence in this story but I wasn't sure if it was graphic enough to warrant a tag. Thanks for reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric recieves a visitor.

Ulfric Stormcloak could have died that day. 

He saw the blow coming, but couldn't lift his weapon in time to parry the strike, limbs heavy with exhaustion from the nearly endless fighting. _Remember, Ulfric,_ Arngeir's parting words rang in his mind, you are not invincible. _Even heroes can fall._ But Ulfric held nothing but courage in his heart as he faced the Thalmor soldiers on the fields of battle. He became the very image of Nordic strength, dispatching foes and forcing them back with his shouts. Skyrim depended on him, and he would fight for her people until his last breath. He braced himself for that moment, locking eyes with the elf that would soon become his killer. The soldier smirked, taunting him. Ulfric snarled and lifted his sword with all his remaining strength. _Never let it be said that I went down without a fight._ The Thalmor rushed him, blade carving a wide arc towards his body. Ulfric raised his sword in preparation for one last stand.

And then there was blood, and pain, and darkness.

Ulfric Stormcloak could have died that day. But, by luck or fate or the will of the Nine, he lived.

Now he lay in his quarters in Windhelm, beginning the slow, grueling process of recovering from his wounds.

Ulfric embraced the Nordic traditions of battle. He had dedicated himself to becoming a powerful warrior even since he could lift a sword. He did not fear death, as he knew that Sovngarde awaited him on the other side. This pain, though...this was something he could do without. He tried to sit up for several seconds, groaning with effort, but eventually fell back onto his bed, frustrated. He couldn't be here. His men needed him back on the battlefield. _I will not let them bleed and die for Skyrim while I hide like a coward!_ But after many long minutes of trying, the man gave in with a tired sigh. To be confined in his quarters until he healed, relying on others to take care of him...there was no greater punishment, Ulfric decided. This was not the mercy of the Nine but a cruel trick of the Daedra. Ulfric Stormcloak, a true son of Skyrim, would not allow others to fight in his name while he sat back and did nothing! _Though I don't have much choice in the matter_. He couldn't even stand in his current position, much less wield a weapon. Though it pained him greatly, he would have to wait. He lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity, until the door creaked open.

A hooded male figure stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He dressed in dark colors, ideal for stealth, and Ulfric reached for his blade. Then the man spoke. "Ulfric." Not Stormcloak, not Jarl, but Ulfric. He relaxed his sword arm, the corners of his mouth shifting up on instinct. 

"Overexerted yourself, did you?" The figure pulled a chair from the corner of the room and sat down, eyes never leaving the wounded man before him. "You never were one for caution."

"And you never were one for risks." Ulfric replied. "So it surprises me to see you here, Torygg."

"A pleasant surprise, I hope." Torygg pulled back his hood to reveal his youthful face, already aged too much by the burdens of war. "My father did not want me coming here, it's true. He believes that, as son of the High King, I must be protected." He chuckled, knowing full well that being protected in his father's eyes meant being trapped forever in Solitude by the palace guard. "I have great respect for my father, but you are... important to me. You are worth the risk." His eyes traveled down the length of Ulfric's body, pausing to take in the sight of every bandage and scar. "Ulfric-"

"I know." He tried to turn his head to look at his visitor, but grunted as the pain spasmed in his neck, and feebly fell back against the bed.

"Ulfric!" Torygg leaned in closer, and Ulfric could now see more clearly the worry lines etched into his brow and the concern reflected in his gaze. On this young man's shoulders lay many burdens, burdens slowly falling from his father's shoulders to his own, burdens he had been forced to carry far too soon. Ulfric didn't envy him.

"I know what you came here to ask of me." Ulfric fought to keep his eyes open, sleep threatening to overtake him once more. "You wish for me to promise that I will stay safe, that I will survive this coming onslaught...that I will never leave your side." His heart ached as he watched Torygg's expression shift from that of slight hope to resigned acceptance. "Torygg. I will do all that I can. But I am a son of Skyrim, sworn to protect her with my life. Forgive me, but I cannot make that promise just yet." His eyes slumped closed. "In the future, perhaps. But not yet."

"Stay with me, Ulfric." Torygg's hand brushed against his cheek in a gentle caress. "There is something else we must speak of, a more... personal matter."

Ulfric wearily blinked his eyes open. "This must be very important, or you would not be interrupting my nap." His lips formed a small grin. Ulfric had never considered himself a funny man, but Torygg brought out a different side of him then anyone else, a softer, playful side.

"We stayed together in Solitude for some time before you journeyed to High Hrothgar. We were...close." Torygg moved his hand to wrap around Ulfric's, soft against the warrior's calloused skin. "And then you left, without so much as a goodbye." He hesitated for a moment. "Why?"

Ulfric remained silent, thinking over his response. "I've always been a rash and careless man. You admired me back then, and you still do now." He could see it in the younger man's eyes, how they lit up with every word from his mouth. "Why you felt this way- why you continue to feel this way- I do not know. But I do know this: I was born to fight. I can feel the fighting spirit in my bones even now. I followed this calling to High Hrothgar, but in my recklessness, I lost sight of everything else. Of everyone else." Ulfric heaved a deep sigh. " Forgive me. I lost sight of you, of what we had. But know this: I never once stopped loving you, Torygg." With a surge of strength, Ulfric forced himself upright, grasping Torygg's arm for support. 

"Ulfric!" Torygg quickly wrapped his arms around the man to keep him from falling over. "Oh, Ulfric. Of course I forgive you." He shifted to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and lowered the man's head into his lap. "I admire you for your power, your courage, your determination, your will to fight for what you believe in. You may be shortsighted at times, but no amount of flaws could hinder your image in my eyes. You are the man I gave my heart to long ago, the man who still holds it now. I love you, Ulfric, and I will be here for you, as long as you will have me. I swear it."

Their lips met, pressing tenderly at first. Torygg leaned into the sensation, holding his lover in place so as to not aggravate his wounds. He broke away only for a quick breath before rekindling the moment with passion.

"Torygg." He gasped. "Torygg…"

Torygg jumped back. "Ulfric, I'm sorry. I know it's been a long time, I shouldn't have-" 

"Thank you, Torygg. For everything." Ulfric relaxed in his lover's arms, taking comfort in the warmth of his touch. "Perhaps, if we both see this war through to victory, I can return with you to Solitude. We could take a nice long walk and take in the sights together as we did before." He smiled, another wave of sleepiness overcoming him. "Perhaps...we could…" The world faded to darkness as he fell asleep.

Torygg smiled softly, stroking the man's hair. He didn't always understand Ulfric's actions, and he didn't claim to. A strong battle-hardened warrior and a shy scholarly prince, they made an odd pair. But any misgivings he may have had before this visit had long since faded away. Ulfric loved him. And that was enough.


	2. Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had to be done...for the sake of Skyrim.

Ulfric walked through the gates of Solitude, dressed in his battle armor, alone except for Galmar at his side. Always at his side. Prejudiced he may be, but at least that man was loyal. Unlike a certain someone. He growled under his breath and clenched his fists, quickening his strides. That traitor would pay soon enough. Ulfric cast his mind away from the man for a moment. It was a fine day in the city. The sun shone down on the merchants selling their wares, the children playing tag, the citizens taking in the morning air. He raised his blade in their defense back in the Great War, and now he would do some again, albeit under different circumstances. A few of them stopped to stare at the Jarl in their midst. A woman took one look at him and backed away. Ulfric paid her no mind, continuing on to his destination.

The Blue Palace came into view, towering above the city. Ulfric paused, halting for a moment in front of the massive building.

"Is everything alright, my Jarl?" Galmar questioned. He looked between Ulfric and the palace uncertainly. 

"Just fine, Galmar. I thank you for your concern." Ulfric replied, never looking away from the sight directly in front of him. This day would go down in history, he knew. His actions today would dictate the future of Skyrim. He had come so far already, learning the Thu'um and battling in the Great War. He had never before hesitated to protect his homeland, but he did now, because he knew who awaited him in the palace ahead. And after fighting thousands of Thalmor, after facing certain death and impossible odds, Ulfric allowed himself a few split seconds of cowardice.

And then, in one decisive motion, Ulfric Stormcloak flung open the palace doors.

"High King Torygg!" His booming voice echoed throughout the halls, startling servants and palace guards alike. He marched up the steps with renewed purpose, Galmar following closely behind him.

Torygg sat on his throne, sharing a laugh with his wife, a wine glass in his hand. The merriment instantly came to a halt when Ulfric stopped directly in front of them. "Jarl Ulfric. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Not just Ulfric, but Jarl. That alone hurt more than any physical wound he had ever received. Whether Torygg knew that, he wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. It didn't change what he planned to do. "Your majesty. How I've missed our chats." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I've missed them myself." The High King handed his wine glass to a servant, giving the Jarl his full attention. "But I suspect you did not come all the way from Windhelm to make small talk?"

"I came all this way for one reason." Ulfric rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I will ask you once more. Will you abandon this corrupt empire and stand up for the people of Skyrim?" _Why did you leave me for her?_ His second question remained unsaid, hanging heavy in the air around them. Elisif shifted nervously, sensing the tension but knowing not the reason for it.

Torygg, though, understood fully. "The Empire has done much for the people of Skyrim. It would be in Skyrim's best interest to remain part of it." His answer to the second question was in his gaze as it shifted to Elisif. He loved her, and that love revealed itself as his eyes met hers, shining in a way they never shone with anyone else.

"If you truly feel this way, you leave me no choice." Ulfric would never forget how his heart shattered on the night of the royal wedding, the way he hid himself in a long-forgotten corner of the palace and sobbed the hours away. "I, Ulfric Stormcloak, challenge you for the position of High King of Skyrim!"

Elisif gasped. The servants whispered amongst themselves, the guards noticing the unrest and readying their weapons.

"A challenge?" Torygg blinked slowly. A thousand emotions flashed across his face. The man seemed visibly confused, a small reminder of his inexperience as a ruler.

"A duel." Ulfric drew his sword in one fluid motion. "To the death. Honorable combat, in the old Nord way." The understanding dawned on the High King, and for a split second Ulfric caught a glimpse of the man he'd once known, the man who admired him and would never deny him any request...the man that now felt betrayed by a man he trusted, but hid his pain behind a stony mask of neutral emotion.

"Torygg. You cannot go through with this!" Elisif gripped his arm tightly in fear. "This man, he-"

"A High King cowers before no one. I must." Torygg kissed her sweetly and whispered a few words in her ear before pulling away. "Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. I accept your challenge."

Only Ulfric knew the man well enough to hear the slight tremor in his voice. The High King was well and truly afraid.

Ulfric Stormcloak strode out of the Blue Palace and into the courtyard. He took a couple of practice swings with his sword, its familiar weight a comfortable presence in his hand. The High King would need a few minutes to prepare, so Ulfric waited, contemplating the moment that awaited him. Was this blackmail? Torygg was honor-bound to accept the duel. Would refusing the challenge have barred his entrance to Sovngarde? He didn't know. _No. I challenged him and he accepted. That's all there is to it._ He could not allow himself to back down now. This had to be done, for the sake of Skyrim.

Minutes later, the High King entered the courtyard, dressed in his ceremonial armor. Ulfric doubted the man had worn it since his coronation. _Fanciful, but not practical. Just like the empire he stands for._ Torygg's queen followed him, misty-eyed and downcast. Though inexperienced at ruling a country, Lady Elisif was no fool. She had likely grasped the gravity of the situation quickly, trying and failing to put on a brave face for her husband. Regardless, she now stood openly crying in front of her palace guard and the entire court. The entire court? Ulfric had been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed anyone arrive. _Ah, well. It doesn't matter now._ In three large strides, Ulfric closed the distance between himself and the High King, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Draw your weapon." Ulfric spat. "Draw your weapon, High King, and show me the strength of your empire!"

Torygg kissed his wife one last time, gentle, kind and desperate. "Do not fear, my love."

"Torygg..." Elisif squeezed his hand, then stepped back to join the onlookers. "Fight well."

Once she was a safe distance away, the High King drew his sword with a flourish, directing it at his challenger. "Ulfric Stormcloak." He took a deep, shaky breath, one short moment of weakness before a great act of courage. "Victory or Sovngarde!"

Ulfric did not echo the words. The time for talking had passed. He launched himself at the man with full force, sword aimed for his heart. Torygg barely dodged the blow and raised his sword to parry the next. Ulfric wanted to toy with him, to enjoy this moment, to make it last...but he knew there was no honor in doing so. Even the traitor in front of him deserved better than that. So he held nothing back, memories flashing through his mind as he struck with lightning speed.

He remembered his first meeting with Torygg, not knowing his true identity. They were just children, unaware of the chaos that awaited them in their future. Ulfric had never expected the shy and snivelling little boy to be the future High King of Skyrim.

He remembered their first kiss, in the coldest night of a thousand stars. It seemed so long ago now. Both of them had changed so much since that day. 

He remembered the night before he left for High Hrothgar. Whether or not to accept the call of the Greybeards had never been in question. Still, seeing Torygg's face, peaceful in sleep, had nearly brought him to his knees. Torygg would miss him dearly, and Ulfric knew he would have trouble sleeping for months. _But that didn't matter,_ Ulfric told himself as he walked out the door and into the snow. He had received a calling. He must answer.

A quick slash from the High King's sword brought him back to the present. He knew from the sting in his shoulder that the man had drawn blood. _I'm impressed, Torygg._ As a young boy, Torygg had feared the sight of blood, doing all he could to avoid it. But now a fire stirred in his eyes. The High King truly believed he fought for the people of Skyrim.

And Ulfric found that sickening.

He had to end this, now, before his suppressed emotions took over him. This man was no longer a friend or a lover, but an opponent, an enemy on the fields of battle. _It's kill or be killed._ Torygg backed up a few paces, sensing the opportunity and taking it. He rushed forward, his sword raised to-

**"FUS RO DAH!"**

Ulfric reacted on instinct, the shout leaving his lips before he could think. Elisif shouted just after, screaming her husband's name. The High King flew back several feet. His body slammed against a wall with a sickening crunch. His sword hand twitched weakly, curling around the hilt of his weapon even as his blood pooled around him.

_To die with a sword in your hand...to a Nord, there is no greater honor._

Time seemed to slow as Ulfric closed the distance between them, step after step toward his inevitable destiny. At last he stood above the fallen king. Torygg lifted his head to look him in the eye, suffering and dying and braver than ever before.

Ulfric plunged the sword into his heart. Torygg gasped, a wet, choking sound, and lay still.

And then, chaos. For Ulfric, it passed in a blur of adrenaline. The courtyard exploded into a cacophony of noise. Onlookers panicked and ran in every direction. Elisif shrieked orders to the palace guard, making a mad dash for her husband's body. Galmar yelled something but his words vanished into the commotion. Ulfric maneuvered through the crowd, his feet carrying him swiftly to the city gates.

It was over. He had saved Skyrim from a corrupt ruler and forged the first step against the Empire and the Thalmor, the first step towards fighting for freedom, for justice, for honor. Ulfric Stormcloak had won his victory, and for that he was proud.

In a foggy corner of his mind, he remembered the joy he had seen in Torygg's eyes when they kissed back in Windhelm.

_You killed a man who loved you, Ulfric._ The dead man's voice echoed within. _Tell me, was there truly any honor in that?_


	3. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They will meet once again.

Ulfric sat away from the others, watching their revelry with thoughtful eyes. He would join them in time, but for now, he needed time to himself, time to think and remember. The mead hall itself was a glorious sight, far more lively and joyous than he ever could have imagined. Yet a part of him felt detached, alienated in a self-imposed exile drawn from his denial. 

"The transition can be difficult at first, I know." The former Harbinger had told him on the journey to the hall following his arrival. "But acceptance will come in time."

Time seemed to flow differently in this place. The sky blessed the warriors with the sight of its ever-present colors, beautiful shades of light. Sleep was possible but not needed. No one grew fatigued here. Ulfric found that his body remained strong and resilient always, a surprising yet pleasant change.

Ulfric had accepted his place here. At least, he wanted to believe that. While a small part of him longed to return to the land of the living, Sovngarde provided so many wonders that it was impossible to feel dissatisfied with his current existence. It was ironic, Ulfric thought, that he was now cowering in the Hall of Valor, that the man he couldn't bring himself to face at this moment was the same man he had been least afraid to face in life. He had watched as the man lifted a tankard of mead to his lips and drank deeply. Any doubts Ulfric had harbored in life faded away. That man belonged here. He had fought and died with the honor. He was a true Nord. _So what does that make me?_ Ulfric could still feel the sticky warmth that coated his hands on that fateful day. Tsun had judged him worthy of entering the Hall of Valor, but had his actions later in life truly redeemed his earlier mistakes? Judgement came differently in the hearts of man than in gods.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. It has been far too long." 

Ulfric startled. He had been so absorbed by his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed the man approach. "Greetings, Torygg." 

The former High King took the seat across from him. The two men sat and drank. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"Torygg." Ulfric broke the silence. He studied the wood of the table, the texture of his mug, anything to keep his eyes from meeting those of the man across from him. "I…" He sighed. "Words fail me. But I must at least try to explain."

Torygg nodded and kept a neutral expression. "I am listening."

"I loved you." Ulfric admitted quietly. "I loved you, but I had many weaknesses, and I never learned to overcome them until it was too late. One of those weaknesses was my lack of vision. I led a rebellion that was destined to fail. Many good men died because of my mistakes." He paused for a moment. "When you left me for her...I was heartbroken. I lost part of myself. And from that loss came a desire to fight, to destroy. To do anything to ease the pain in my soul."

Torygg nodded slowly, but said nothing in response.

"I challenged you to that duel not only because I felt you had betrayed Skyrim, but because I felt you had betrayed me as well. I was angry, and that anger blinded me to reason. I misused the Thu'um, I started a war, and I killed the man I loved more than life itself." Ulfric met Torygg's eyes. "I do not deserve your forgiveness. But I am a selfish man, Torygg, and so I ask for it regardless."

"It wasn't all your fault, Ulfric." Torygg smiled sadly. "I was weak. I sacrificed the pride of Skyrim when I signed the White-Gold concordat. I did it to save the lives of my people, but in doing so, I gave up everything we fought for. It was self-preservation, but also cowardice. Perhaps if I had been stronger, I could have united my people and rallied them against our true enemy." He folded his hands in his lap, sitting upright, regal as always. He held himself now with much more confidence than he did in life.

 _How tragic,_ Ulfric thought, _that we only learn once the damage is already done._

"I forgive you, Ulfric. You fought for Skyrim, for the Nords, for what you believed in. You did what you believed had to be done, and I cannot fault you for that." Torygg spoke slowly, with reverence. "Can you forgive me, old friend?"

"Of course I forgive you." Ulfric sat back, stunned. Torygg had continued to blame himself even in this paradise? Perhaps they were more alike than he cared to admit. He raised his tankard in a toast. "To forgiveness, then."

Torygg raised his as well. "And to moving on."

The two men drank together, the atmosphere changing from one of apprehension to one of joy. Finally, Torygg asked the question Ulfric had known he would ask from the beginning. "Did you ever find love again?"

Ulfric had rehearsed his reply in his mind many times, but now all of his pre-planned words fell away. Instead, he spoke from the heart. "I did. Not the kind of love we shared, but it was love all the same."

"Who was it?"

"Someone I had known for years, who I thought I could trust." Ulfric explained. "Legate Rikke."

"Rikke? Truly?" Torygg laughed. "The leader of the Stormcloak rebellion and a high ranking Imperial soldier. A star-crossed romance if I've ever heard of one."

"She claimed she had changed. She told me that she wished to fight for the Stormcloaks. I was wary, of course, but..." His voice trailed off and he paused for a short moment, gathering his thoughts. "The fires of the heart have sparked the downfalls of many great men. I was a fool to think I could resist such temptation."

"She betrayed you?"

"Yes." Ulfric laughed bitterly. "I loved her, Torygg. Against my better judgement, I gave her my trust. I gave her my heart."

"And she refused to give you the same."

"No. She loved me, and for a brief time we enjoyed each other's company. But Rikke always placed her duty above her emotions. I should have known she was an Imperial spy from the beginning, but I was blind. Love is blind, I thought, as I fell to her blade."

Torygg chose his words carefully. "I...am very sorry. Truly, I am."

"I did not live to see it, but I imagine your Elisif now reigns as High Queen. You should be proud."

"I am." Torygg replied, his eyes clouding over. "Sometimes I miss her, but I am glad to know that she still draws breath."

"She has become a fine leader. Had I claimed the throne, I would have kept her as Jarl. She is much beloved by her people, and for good reason." Ulfric confessed. He had never hated her, not really. Once his jealousy had faded, he saw her as she truly was: a kind-hearted and benevolent woman, one who could, with experience, become a fair leader of Skyrim. She had been a fine match for Torygg.

They lapsed into silence again as both men allowed themselves a brief moment of remembrance

"Rikke, Elisif, and the two of us...we will have much to speak about when they arrive." Ulfric chuckled. "The reunion of four dead lovers, each with a warrior's heart. That shall make a night to remember."

"It shall." Torygg stood. "But enough of the past. You arrived here recently?"

"Yes."

"Then come along, old friend. It's time for you to meet the others."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this. Seriously, it means a lot to me. Feel free to check out my other works. I have some more Skyrim stuff published and I plan on making more. I'm always trying to improve my writing so any commentary is very much appreciated.


End file.
